Kiss The Girl
by Lamachine
Summary: Re-writing of the DW episode "The Lodger", with Janet as Craig and Sam as Sophie. (Sam/Janet)


**Author's Note: **

I was thinking about my long-run Sam/Janet fic, Everything Backwards, and the song Kiss The Girl, from Chameleon Circuit, came up on my mp3. I've been stalling the writing of EB for a while (it's about to get angsty and I don't trust myself these days), so I figured I could write a small fluffy thing to ask for your forgiveness.

However, it turned into this monstrosity that bears no end (but will probably have only three chapters, I'm not sure).

This is an AU without the Stargate Program, where Sam and Janet are ordinary people, and where I will include other Stargate characters as much as possible while remaining close to the plot of The Lodger (which isn't my most favorite episode, but it fits them so well, I think).

* * *

The first few times, the ad was out even before the previous lodger had left; she always found someone to rent the bedroom as quickly as it was empty; the rotation as easy as making a bed or grading papers – tedious, but easy. Still, as months and then years went by, it became longer and longer before she found the courage to go through it again – the phone calls, the visits, the paperwork… Most of all – and she didn't like to admit that – the hope that she would not have to find anyone, because she already did.

Janet had known for what seemed like forever, now, who she wanted to share her apartment with; more than the apartment, really, her life, her heart belonged to Sam, but she could never gather the courage. And so, when a lodger left, she found another, enjoying, in the meantime, that her gorgeous colleague spent weekend days at her place, repairing any little thing the previous renter had broken down. Between roommates, at least, Janet was entertained with the sight of Sam, sweaty in her worn out t-shirt and on those days she almost told her how she felt – but then usually, the phone rang, and it was always Daniel with another one of his emergencies and Sam just had to go.

Of course she knew there was another reason, apart from Daniel's impossible love life, that she couldn't open up and just _tell_ her. Janet feared most that she could, if she spoke, lose this, this _friendship_ – whatever it was.

Therefore it was painful, to place another ad, to search for another stranger acting as a third wheel and taking up space, and although it was as alienating as it was also comfortable, because Janet thought she was going to pass out most times when she was alone with Sam, really alone, alone enough to confide, to tell her, finally, the words that threatened to leave her lips so often these days.

"Janet, what's that on the ceiling?"

Sam's question pulled her out of her daydreaming, and her fingers hardened their grip over her coffee mug as she stepped closer to the blonde.

"What's what on the ceiling?"

Her puzzled look made the blonde smile, which only embarrassed her.

"That", Sam pointed, and Janet had to come even closer to see what she was going on about. There, close enough to wrap an arm around her waist, she looked up, following the long slender finger. "It's coming from upstairs."

They stared at the stain for a few seconds, and although Janet knew she should have been thinking about her neighbour and the conversation she should have with him, she found herself distracted by the blonde's scent. She shrugged, hoping her longing hadn't been noticed, and stepped back.

"Who lives up there again?"

"Just some guy", Janet answered rapidly, eager to drop the subject. "So, what's the plan tonight? Dinner and a movie?"

"Yeah, dinner and a movie", Sam repeated, and there was something strange lighting up her eyes, but Janet couldn't pinpoint what it was. It happened sometimes; Janet would say something, or do something ordinary, and then Sam's eyes would glitter, but it the fraction of a second, it disappeared. Sometimes, Janet thought it meant Sam felt the same, but she knew better.

A loud bang came from upstairs.

"What's he doing up there", Sam asked, surprised. They usually never heard the neighbour; Janet's apartment had always been a harbour of calm. Well, most days; it always depended on the lodger she would find. "You sent out the ad?"

"Yeah, this morning", Janet spoke, hiding her disappointment by drinking another sip of her coffee.

"Well let's hope you'll get someone better this time", Sam suggested, reminding them both of the paint job they had been forced to do after the departure of the Colonel. "Maybe even find me someone?"

"Hm, yes _a young professional_", Janet repeated the words from her ad, unable to stop the words from coming as she added; "otherwise you'll be forced to settle for me."

"You'll have to settle for me first", Sam replied with a wink, but before Janet had time to understand the words, already the blonde's phone rang.

"Oh, it's Daniel again", she answered the unspoken question before responding to the call. "What? Yeah, but I've kind of got plans. No, it's nothing important, it's just Janet."

"Oh, thanks Sam…"

"Sorry… you know what I mean", she offered, running a hand down her shoulder as an apology. It sent shivers down Janet's spine. "Ok, I'll talk to Jan. Ok." She hung up and grimaced, holding back a sigh as she informed the redhead; "now he's having a Sarah crisis over his Kira crisis. It could be another all-nighter. I'm sorry, but I really should go… Do you mind if I go?"

"No. Not at all! No, honestly. Of course not. Go", Janet blurted out, awkwardly trying to hide her disappointment. Although she liked Daniel, she cursed his name a thousand times in her head.

"Because I could stay", Sam offered with a weak smile.

"No, go on", the redhead maintained, and her mind switched to cursing herself. Somehow she had gotten into her mind that she would talk to the blonde tonight – although every time she settled on admitting her feelings, she never actually went through with it.

"I mean, we've got plans", her colleague insisted once again.

Janet answered with a shrug. "Just a night in."

"Yeah, it's just…", there was a flicker lurking deep within Sam's green orbs – disappointment? It disappeared in a flash. "Okay, right, I'm going."

Just like that, the blonde was already half-way to the door.

"All right, then. Well, uh… I'll see you soon", Janet followed, not unlike the lovesick puppy she had been for the better part of the last few years.

"Yes", Sam confirmed, hand on the door handle, taking a deep breath before she turned around.

"All right", the redhead offered a kind smile, remembering that her friend wasn't ditching her – Daniel needed someone and the blonde had such a big heart that she couldn't say no. "And give me a call, and I hope everything's okay."

Janet hoped the last few words sounded honest, because a part of her wasn't done with mentally scourging Daniel's name and blaming him for her own inadequacies.

"Thanks, sorry."

The words had barely reached her ears that already the blonde had dropped out of her sight, and Janet was facing a closed door. She remained paralyzed for a few seconds, dry throat and nervous sweaty palms, until a noise from upstairs reminded her that she, too, would have to get going. Walking back from the lobby and into her apartment, she muttered to herself.

"Just tell her. Just tell her. I love you. I love you. Oh, just. Hey, I don't know if you knew. Oh –"

The doorbell rang, and a smile found its way to Janet's lips.

"Everytime."

Picking up the spare keys that rested on the mantle, she walked back to the door with a renewed confidence. As if Sam forgetting her set of keys and locking herself outside was the proof she had needed – the obvious evidence that there never would be anyone else out there for Janet.

"I love you", she declared as she opened the door, heart heavy with hope.

"Well, that's good, because I'm your new lodger", a tall British man replied. "Do you know, this is going to be easier than I expected."

Whiplashed, Janet's brain processed the words as rapidly as it could while the stranger grabbed the keys from her hand. The touch somehow jump started her ability to talk; "but I only put the ad up today. I didn't put my address…"

"Well, aren't you lucky I came along? More lucky than you know. Less of a young professional, more of an ancient amateur, but frankly I'm an absolute dream."

His eyes glistened with a childish excitement; therefore he didn't register as a threat, but still, there was something very odd about him. "Woa, wait. I don't know if I want you staying here", Janet opposed, before she added; "and give me back those keys; you can't have those."

"Yes, quite right. Have some rent", he offered her a paper bag filled with cash. "That's probably quite a lot, isn't it? Looks like a lot. Is it a lot? I can never tell."

How the man had managed to walk past her and enter the apartment building, Janet had no idea. She turned around and followed him, halfway wondering if she was hallucinating. Of course the flicking lights only served to reinforce that sentiment.

"Don't spend it all on sweets, unless you like sweets. I like sweets. Oh!", the exclamation startled Janet even more than the fact that he leaned in. The tall stranger's back arched awkwardly as he gave her air kisses, and his awkwardness once again seemed so childlike, he didn't appear menacing – despite his obvious height advantage. "That's how we greet each other nowadays, isn't it?"

He straightened his back and walked in the apartment without an invitation, Janet tagging along. She spotted her cellphone on the mantle and slipped it inside her pocket – a precaution, even though the stranger looked more like an odd goof ball than a dangerous criminal, one could never be too sure.

"I'm the Doctor. Well, they call me the Doctor. I don't know why. I call me the Doctor, too. Still don't know why."

The redhead offered her hand, which seemed to remind the man of her presence – which was odd, since he stood in her apartment and addressed her. He grabbed the limb and shook it vigorously.

"Janet Fraiser", she offered before she frowned. "The Doctor?"

"Yep", the Brit confirmed, throwing his looks around. "Who lives upstairs?"

At the mention of her neighbor, the redhead blinked. Somehow, she was surprised every time someone mentioned him; she didn't know why. "Just some guy."

"What's he look like?"

There was a slight reprieve in the fact that he hadn't returned to his monologue yet; therefore, Janet savored a few seconds of silence before she answered. "Normal. He's very quiet."

As if trying to disprove her, a loud crash resonated from upstairs. "Usually", she grimaced. "Sorry, who are you again?"

The Doctor – whatever that meant – had managed to climb on a chair and now examined closely the stain Sam had noticed earlier. "Hello?"

Janet walked to his side, both hands resting on her hips, a frown stuck to her face. "Excuse me?"

"Ah. I suppose that's dry rot?"

The change of subject caused her to blink. "Or damp. Or mildew."

"Or none of the above", he spoke as if he knew exactly what it was.

Annoyed, Janet offered; "I'll get someone to fix it", before she remembered that she did not owe him an explanation, because he did not live here. He was in _her_ apartment, not even a guest, really – granted, she still held onto a bag that seemed like it contained three months' rent and she had no intention to pass up on that, but still, he had no right to comment on her keeping up of the place.

"No, I'll fix it", and that somehow erased Janet's worry as he continued. "I'm good at fixing rot. Call me the Rotmeister. No, I'm the Doctor, don't call me the Rotmeister."

Amused, the redhead crossed her arms, staring blankly as he climbed down the chair and took in the rest of the living room. "This is the most beautiful parlour I have ever seen." Janet grimaced; she knew a lie when she heard one. "You're obviously a woman of impeccable taste. I can stay, Janet, can't I? Say I can."

Any logical person would've said no. That was no way to make a good impression.

"You haven't seen the room", Janet opposed weakly. Somehow, with its exuberance and eccentricities, the Doctor – was she really supposed to call him that? – had wormed his way in. Already, her heart was convincing her mind that she had to find someone anyway, and that by saying yes, she was going to save herself the trouble of looking for anyone else.

"The room?"

The innocent question triggered a laugh. "Your room."

"My room? Oh, yes. My room. My room. Take me to my room", he asked, playing with the words as if he was enjoying the way they rolled on his tongue. The act only reinforced Janet's feeling that the man's peculiar behavior was harmless, and would, at the very least, entertain her for a while.

He remained silent as she brought him towards the room, flicking on the lights with one hand. She stood at the entrance, waiting for him to enter. Unlike when he had burst into her apartment building, now he seemed hesitant – pulling his neck to look around before he finally stepped in.

"Yeah, this is it. Freshly repainted – I had a… disagreement with the colors the last guy chose. A retired Colonel, he was. Not very neat for a military man. Anyway, he moved out a month ago; this uncle he'd never even heard of died and left him a cabin near a lake and he loved fishing more than anything so he left."

Janet wondered why his silence was making her uneasy, blurting out explanations and stories as if she had to prove something to him.

"How very convenient", the Doctor replied, even though he seemed to have barely listened to her tirade. "This'll do just right. In fact –"

A loud crash coming from upstairs interrupted him, and he stuck a finger in his mouth before raising it above his head, as if searching for turning winds. "No time to lose. I'll take it." The redhead's lips parted, but before she could speak, he thrust something in her hands. "You'll want to see my credentials. There."

He gestured towards the paper she now held, and for a second it looked blank to Janet, but soon it filled with glowing references of past employers and building owners.

"Is that a reference from NASA?"

"Oh they love me there", he shrugged, passing her on his way out of the room. "Are you hungry? I'm hungry."

"I haven't got anything", the redhead argued as she followed him towards the kitchen. She usually had the fridge filled with fresh vegetables, fruits and at least two different sorts of cheese, but lately work had been hectic and she had found less and less time for herself. Well, she could always cut back on her hours hanging out with Sam, but that was a solution she refused to even consider.

"You've got everything I need for an _omelette fines herbes, pour deux_", a voice came from behind the opened fridge door, and Janet smirked as she noticed how impossibly bent he had to get to reach anything. That strange man was impossibly tall – and she was used to being smaller than most, but with him, it was something else. "So, who's the girl on the fridge?"

She turned her eyes towards the photograph, even though she knew exactly who was on the picture. She looked at it every morning.

"My friend. Sam."

"Girlfriend", he asked, cracking two eggs on the side of a pan. Whether it was the question or the peculiar moment they were sharing that made Janet nervous, she had no clue. She leaned on the counter, eyes locked on the yellow yolk that sizzled slightly.

"A friend who is a girl", Janet answered. "There's nothing going on."

There was a beat of silence before the Doctor replied. "Oh, that's completely normal. Works for me."

She wondered what he meant, but she felt so stressed out and awkward, watching this stranger cooking her breakfast, that she couldn't stand being silent.

"We met at work a few years ago. We're both teachers. At the University."

He smiled. "Oh really, is there a library? Never mind, libraries make me sad now. Don't know why. Well I know why, don't I? Anyway, you were saying, about a University?"

Janet blinked a few times, hoping her brain would eventually get used to the Doctor's rants so that she could more easily catch up on the conversation. "I work for the Science and Health Department, although the Head of the Department looks down on most of my research because I still practice medicine on the side. As if being working in an office made him better them me. Anyway, I can't complain, they renew my grant every year. Why am I telling you this? I don't even know you."

"Well, I've got one of those faces. People never stop blurting out their plans while I'm around."

The way he smiled suggested there was a story behind that, but Janet didn't feel like poking.

"Right", she concluded instead. "Where's your stuff?"

"Oh, don't worry, it'll materialise. If all goes to plan."

The odd sentence was followed by a plate being shoved into her hands, and Janet realised she hadn't even noticed the meal was already cooked. They settled on the round kitchen table, devouring the omelette without sharing a word, and the comfortable silence succeeded in convincing her.

"Oh, that was incredible. Absolutely amazing", the redhead complimented her unexpected chef as she settled her fork down. "Where did you learn to cook?"

"Paris, in the eighteen century. No, hang on, that's not recent, is it? Seventeenth? No, no, no. Twentieth. Sorry, I'm not used to doing them in the right order."

She smirked as she stepped up, grabbing both empty plates before walking towards the sink. "Has anyone told you that you're a bit weird?"

The redhead didn't turn around when the Doctor spoke, carefully rinsing the dirty plates. "They never really stop. Ever been to Paris, Janet?"

She suspended her actions for only a second, and then replied; "no, I can't see the point of Paris. I'm not much of a traveller."

A long time ago, she had dreamed of seeing the world, just a backpack to follow her around as she crossed as many frontiers as she could. Somehow, life had simply led her here, and she had stayed. Built up a nest and forgotten the foreign names she had toyed with, the strange architecture she had longed to see.

"I can tell from your curtains."

She frowned, drying her hands on a towel that hanged from her oven. "My curtains?"

"You're starting to look like them."

One eye towards the living room window, followed by a look down to her clothes informed her of what he meant; her sweater's fabric matched the curtains perfectly.

"Ah, well, that's not intentional", she replied awkwardly, reaching for the closest object to toy with. "No, I like it here. I'd miss it, I'd miss –"

"Those keys", the Doctor offered.

"What?"

"You're sort of fondling them."

Embarrassment, in the form of a red shade, crept up her cheeks. "I'm holding them."

"Right", the man confirmed, even though his tone suggested he wasn't as innocent as he seemed.

"Anyway", Janet brushed him off, walking towards the mantle. "These, these are your keys."

She grabbed another set and turned around to offer it to him, gasping in surprise when she found him right by her side, wide smile on his face. "I can stay?"

The redhead laughed; as if she could refuse him now anyway. "Yeah, you're weird and you can cook. It's good enough for me."

He reached down and hugged her awkwardly, both hands tapping on the side of her shoulders as if settling her into place. It was strange, but not invasive, and so she just shrugged. "Right", she started before pointing around, "outdoor, front door, your door."

The Doctor nodded at every word she spoke. "My door. My place. My gaff. Haha! Yes. Me with a key."

He was ecstatic.

"Listen, with my previous roommates, I had an arrangement where if you ever need me out of your hair, you just give me a shout, okay?"

Puzzled, he frowned. "Why would I want that?"

"In case you want to bring someone home. A girlfriend or a boyfriend?"

"Oh, I will. I'll shout if that happens. Yes", he continued. "Something like, I WAS NOT EXPECTING THIS!"

He practically yelled in the living room, and Janet laughed at the joke, but he didn't seem to notice. His attention had turned back to the stain on the wall.

"By the way, that. The rot. I've got the strangest feeling we shouldn't touch it."


End file.
